


Flower Tastes (The Olfactory Flashbacks Remix)

by Alixtii



Category: Firefly
Genre: Backstory, Curtains, F/F, Father-Daughter Relationship, Female Adolescent Sexuality, Feminist Themes, Flashbacks, Flowers, Kneesocks, Mental Illness, Osiris (planet), POV Female Character, POV Third Person, Partial Nudity, Politics, Present Tense, Prostitution, Remix, Sihnon, Toplessness, Underpants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-08
Updated: 2010-10-08
Packaged: 2017-10-12 12:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/124919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alixtii/pseuds/Alixtii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The scent of flowers hangs in the air.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower Tastes (The Olfactory Flashbacks Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Taste of Flowers](https://archiveofourown.org/works/76371) by [Jain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jain/pseuds/Jain). 



**2517 C.E.**  
 **TRANSPORT SHIP _SERENITY_   
EN ROUTE TO PAQUIN**

The scent of forsythia hangs in the air emanating from the shuttle, like ozone after the strike of lightning, pregnant. Flowers are coquettes, River knows, calling out to nonexistent bees and birds and butterflies, a pheremonic invitation to be attacked, violated, have their life essences be taken away to be manufactured into copies of themselves, same but different, recombinant alleles revealing new patterns, new selves.

Still, it is impossible not to answer their olfactory cry, so she slips through the curtains which hang at the threshold of the shuttlecraft, piercing their dark folds, the soft fabric smooth and gentle as it slides across her face, and then she is _inside_.

Inara puts on the mask of affrontedness for the sake of the captain, but when she sees that River is not Mal the pretense slips away as quickly as it appeared, just one more face among a Companion's wardrobe of millions, and not one of them Inarra's own. River knows this without knowing how she knows it.

River has known many things ever since--but those days are over, Simon has rescued her, and so she allows herself to relax within the safe haven of this grove of flowers. "I don't often have the opportunity to have fresh flowers on board," says Inara. "They're something of a rare treat for me."

River can see the flash of an image: _Serenity_ 's hold full of sunflowers and marigolds and poinsettias, forsythia and jasmine and chrysanthymums. She breathes in their scent and lets herself be lost among the memories.

 **2514 C.E.  
MADAME LI'S ANTIGRAVITY BALLET   
OSIRIS**

River smells the bouquet of flowers her parents have given her. "You were _jing tsai_ ," Reagan Tam reassures her. River smiles.

"Yes," an unfamiliar male voice intrudes. "That was quite the exceptional performance, young lady."

Gabriel Tam immediately steps between River and the man. "And you are?"

The man extends his hand to Gabriel without taking his eyes off River, and she's suddenly conscious of the form-fitting nature of her skintight leotard. But somehow, his gaze manages to be predatory without quite being sexual. "My name is Dr. Mathias."

 **2518 C.E.  
TRANSPORT SHIP _SERENITY_   
EN ROUTE TO HEINLEIN**

Once River has locked _Serenity_ on course for Heinlein, she slips out of the cockpit and makes her way to what once was and now is again Inara's shuttle. Inside, what was once a haven of tranquility is now in disorder, as Inara works to set her rooms up again within the craft.

"Mei-mei," she greets River. "Come in."

River enters. "I thought maybe you could use some help settling back in."

Inara glances around at all of her belongings strewn across the shuttlecraft floor. "That was very thoughtful of you," she agrees. "Thank you."

River helps Inara hang some curtains, runs her hand against the soft fabric. "I'm glad you're moving back in," she says. "I always felt at home here. It reminded me of"-- _Serenity_ is home now, home in a way Osiris never was, and her crew is River's family in a way Reagan and Gabriel never were, but--"of our house back on Osiris, before--"

Before she left, before--

Well, just before. "You have such nice things," she finishes, and feels the curtain again.

"Being a Companion tends to pay better than making delivery runs between backend worlds," Inara admits. She reaches out and places her palm on the back of River's hands, slipping her fingers between the digits of River's hand, and the two hands now slide across the fabric in unison, feeling, sensing, becoming, united in purpose and thus, on some level, in being. "They make it easier, in my work. Finery . . . encourages pleasure. But--" Now it's Inara's turn to leave her sentence unfinished.

"But they don't bring happiness," River completes it for her.

Inara's smile is sad. "No," she agrees.

"Is that why you're aligning your fortune with ours again?" River asks.

This time Inara doesn't answer at all. She doesn't need to.

"We should ask the Captain when we visit Paquin again," River suggests. "Some flowers would be lovely in here."

 **2506 C.E.  
HOUSE MADRASSA   
SIHNON**

They finish the tour in the lobby, a large room filled with every type of flower Inara has ever seen, and many she hasn't before.

"So what do you think, Inara?" Lord Serra asks her. Inara scrunches up her face, pensive.

"I don't know," she says at last. "It'll be an awful _dah bien-hwa_."

"You always wanted to be a Companion," her father reminds her.

Of course she wanted to be a Companion--didn't every girl and boy go through that phase? She wanted nothing more from her future when she was five years old, not even quite understanding yet the full extent of a Companion's duties beyond tea parties and handsomely exotic clients, after wanting to be the princess of Londinium when she was four and before wanting to be a space pirate when she was six.

But now she is twelve, and it is time to make a choice for real, to commit to her future not in fantasy, but reality. She finds the pressure suffocating.

"You'll find it quite satisfactory here," Lord Serra says, and this time, it isn't a question.

 **2519 C.E.  
NEW BROWNCOAT SHIP _SERENITY_   
EN ROUTE TO HERA**

When Inara enters her shuttle, she finds River reclined on the bed. She's dressed only in a pair of white cotton panties and a pair of pink polka-dotted kneesocks. She holds a bouquet of flowers across her chest to cover her bared breasts.

"The socks are a nice touch," Inara notes.

River smiles. "I borrowed them from Kaylee."

Inara nods. "So I assumed." She takes a breath. "We've just received a communiqué from Londinium," she says. "The government's fallen. The Alliance is . . . no more."

River accepts the inforation without changing her expression. "We're free," she says quietly.

Inara knows that it's not that simple. That people will rush to fill the vacuum, that the real fighting has only just begun, that the long process which began a year ago on Miranda still promises to result in consequences that not even River will be able to anticipate. "Yes," she says anyway. "We're free."

If Inara didn't know River better, she might interpret the girl's response as no more than a non sequitor. "Come to bed," River says.

Inara takes the flowers from River, inhales a long smell, and then puts them down, leans over, and kisses the girl.

Maybe, in the one sense that really matters, it's true: they _are_ free, now.


End file.
